Castle of Glass
by Krystal Shepard
Summary: What if Lucy could not get Desmond out before Abstergo found something else about him that they could attempt to use? Desmond does get out, but what all was Abstergo looking for with him? Yaoi, mentions of yuri, mentions of rape, major William-bashing.
1. Chapter 1: Heartbeat

Chapter 1: Heartbeat

Fanfiction by Krystal Shepard

This story was brought out of one question: What if Lucy could not get Desmond out before Abstergo found something else about him that they could attempt to use?

So, yes, Desmond will be just a little bit tortured in the beginning few chapters. Until Lucy, Rebecca, Shaun, and one other person, I don't know whom yet, gets him out. Of course, there will be a mention of rape, but the majority of it will be consensual.

I am ignoring the fact that Lucy is a traitor in the actual game in this. Believe me, I don't like her very much, but there is one other character that I dislike even more. My anger at her is diminishing, so she is still here.

THIS IS A YAOI BETWEEN SHAUN AND DESMOND. If you have a problem with that, then please DO NOT READ. I would rather not get any reviews stating that this should not be a yaoi or anything along those lines. If you do not mind this, then please read. I hope you enjoy this.

R&R!

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Desmond Miles was pacing around his small, Abstergo-provided bedroom.

Lucy had promised that she would try anything to get him out, but days had passed since then, and since Desmond was stuck in his room, he did not know what her hold-up was. The first few days were a bit rough, as his Eagle Vision had awoken that first day and these red symbols were visible to his eyesight. Of course, whoever this Subject Sixteen person was would have left him something to remember him by… He had, luckily, gotten used to seeing the bright red symbols on the walls and floor a couple of days after his little exile. However, after trying to figure out what they meant and failing miserably, Desmond took up his pacing.

…He was shocked there was still a floor underneath his feet he has paced that much.

Desmond stopped in front of the door to the Animus room and stared at it. What was taking Lucy so long? Was Vidic somehow stopping her from doing this, or maybe some other obstacle was in her way? By this point, Desmond had thought of just about everything that could be holding the blonde Assassin up. From she had to wait for confirmation from any other Assassin's helping her, to she was forced to leave without him; Desmond even considered the thought that she had lied to him! However, just because he thought of those things, it does not mean that he believed any of his ideas.

His eyes subconsciously narrowed at the door. A growl slid out from his scarred lips, and Desmond suddenly punched the metal door _hard_. He knew that he would not be breaking the door down, much less opening it, any time soon, but he still felt oddly satisfied at the little outburst he had. Desmond leaned against the door, pressing his forehead to the cool metal. "What the hell is going on out there?" Desmond groaned to himself as his golden eyes slid shut.

His life had been a living hell after being brought to Abstergo; after all, being told that you would die with either choice that you made kind of had that effect on people. Desmond still did not fully understand what they were looking for, but from what he remembered from Altaïr's memories, he knew that it would not be pretty. What his purpose was in all this was still, however, a mystery to his mind. He had provided them with what they wanted; why were they keeping him alive for now?

Desmond had been so lost in his thoughts, he did not realize that he had slid to the floor and was close to passing out. Once he had felt his eyelids starting to flicker open, though, he knew. And he just let himself fall into the depths of sleep-deprived knocking out.

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Desmond woke much later to a hazy feeling in his mind. The first thing that he noticed was that he was sitting upright in a chair, not slumped over on the floor of his room. He attempted to open his eyes and look around, but found a blindfold tied tightly around his head.

His arms automatically jerked in a vain attempt to rip the blindfold off, only for Desmond to realize that they were behind his back and cuffed to the back of the chair he was sitting in. He grimaced, thinking, _'This is it. I'm done for now; Abstergo's just going to get rid of me.'_

To his greatest shock, and relief, that was not the case.

He could faintly hear voices through the haze, but could not discern any words or specific people. Desmond attempted to appear as if he was still unconscious, considering the circumstances. However, it was very difficult to when he felt someone tilt his head up from where it was resting against his chest.

Desmond attempted to control his breathing, to keep it from becoming erratic, and the act seemed to be working. The voices were becoming slightly clearer to his hazed mind, and he could at least distinguish one voice from the collective: Warren Vidic.

The hand at his chin released it, and a very familiar voice clearly said, "Warren, you truly do not know whom you have here, do you?" Desmond stiffened slightly, as fingers trailed lightly against his right shoulder. No, it couldn't be, that man was too much of a hard ass to side with the Templar's…

Vidic replied with something incoherent to Desmond's ears, and he was partially glad that he had not been able to figure out what was said. The fingers trailed up to his jaw before gliding back down his neck, sending small shivers of fear down Desmond's spine. That odd fear confused him; if the person was whom he thought it was, then, one, why was he here, and two, why did it seem as if the man scared him shitless? Desmond had no real reason to fear him, after all.

The man connected to the fingers laughed outright at whatever Vidic had said. "As I thought, you only think what the Council tells you to, not the way you should be," that familiar voice said, and the way it was said made Desmond's hope of him being on his side diminish. "This is a fine specimen of when someone has enough First Civilization DNA in his bloodstream to be considered one of the First Civilization. I've been looking for him these past nine years, since he ran away from the compound and made his way to the United States somehow."

Desmond truthfully did not mean to stiffen completely, to the point that they could notice. Now, he could understand what Vidic was saying. "Ah, so he is awake. Do you want me to sedate him again, Miles?" Desmond cringed; so it was true…

"No, I will. You all are dismissed; I would like some time alone with my 'son'." Desmond heard shuffling of feet as about three to five people left, and then those irritating fingers left his neck. Desmond shifted slightly, now uncaring if he was acting or not. The man in the room with him knew better than that.

"Desmond, Desmond, Desmond. Did you really think that I would not find you again?" that voice crooned, and judging by his footsteps he was slowly circling Desmond. "I always knew where you were, and where you were going." Desmond instinctively scowled at his words.

"Better than being cooped up in a compound in the middle of nowhere South Dakota," he spat out, going on the defensive. The chuckle that came from the man brought a growl out of Desmond. "What the hell do you want with me?" he asked, grinding his teeth as he did.

The blindfold was torn off, and his chin was roughly lifted up to a certain William Miles' face. A sadistic smirk was curving his father's lips, and if Desmond knew any better, he would think that he had a very bad idea of what could happen. "Oh, Desmond, you really don't remember what happened in the Russian compound, do you?" The crooning was back in full force, in a stark contrast with the look on his face. "We never were in South Dakota. That might be where you forced amnesia onto yourself, but never in my life have I been anywhere close to that Assassin compound."

Desmond's eyes widened, and his Eagle Vision flickered into activity, just for a second, causing William to gain a red haze over him. _'Shit,'_ Desmond thought as he jerked his chin out of William's tight hold. "What the hell are you talking about? I've never been to Russia in my life!" he yelled, confusion seeping into his tone. _'This won't be good. Damn it.'_

William shook his head and pulled out a needle. "Looks like I am going to have to bring you out of this state. How sad."

The needle plunged into Desmond's exposed right shoulder, and he flinched at the slight pain. "Wha…" Desmond started saying, but then the very strong sedative that William hit him with took effect. He slumped over in the chair he was sitting at, completely unconscious again.

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The first thing Desmond felt when he started slipping back into consciousness was a pervasive cold. He knew, however, that he was also in his little room again, if the uncomfortable mattress said anything about it. Desmond sighed and rubbed his head, hoping that it was just a dream and that he was still waiting for word on what they were going to do with him. He opened his eyes to see the same room, but there were two guards stationed inside the room now. He could not hold back a scowl; so much for the small amount of privacy he had. "On your feet," one of the guards said when Desmond sat up in bed. Desmond raised an eyebrow, but didn't feel like getting into a fight just yet. He was still completely out of practice, no matter how much has bled over from Altaïr.

Desmond stood, and soon was following the guards down several hallways. He forced his jaw to keep shut, especially when they walked him through an entire floor filled with Animus'. How many of them did they have?

He did not have enough time to think about it, however, seeing as how he was then ushered into what looked like a torture room. The examination table in the center of the room was a solid metal piece, and was either rusted or covered in what had to of been blood. Chains, ropes, and file cabinets lined the walls, and there was a desk in the opposite corner from the door. The guards left at that point, leaving him alone with the figure behind the desk.

The figure glanced up, and coldly ordered, "Take your jacket and shirt off and get on the table." Desmond clenched his jaw; now unsure whether or not he should push his luck and refuse. Then, he spotted the whip at the man's waist, and the line of scalpels lying innocently on his desk. He took a deep breath, and slowly did as he was ordered.

This was going to be another living hell; that much was obvious.

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CLIFFHANGER! I know, I know. William is one hundred percent dedicated to the Creed. He wouldn't do anything against it.

…But who was it that let Daniel Cross into the Order? Whose compound went shockingly untouched? And (spoiler alert) how did the Templar's know where the keys into the Grand Temple were? Cross was at each location where there was one. Someone has to be the leak, and Lucy, by the time Assassin's Creed III takes place, isn't around to be that leak. William Miles also does not look enough like Desmond for there to be any paternal relation between them. I'll explain more of that in the next chapter.

Until then, see yah's!


	2. Chapter 2: Sober

Chapter 2: Sober

Fanfiction by Krystal Shepard

Okay, here's where the story really starts rolling. This is where the rape mentions are brought up, and where Desmond gets out. You will also receive information on what happened at the Russian compound at the very end of the chapter.

This will be slightly obscure in the beginning, because I will NOT be able to write the rape scenes. I leave the specifics to what your own minds come up with…

Please, read and review. And if you missed the warning in the first chapter:

THIS IS A YAOI BETWEEN SHAUN AND DESMOND. If you have a problem with that, then please DO NOT READ. I would rather not get any reviews stating that this should not be a yaoi or anything along those lines. If you do not mind this, then please read. I hope you enjoy this.

P.S., the chapter names will now be the titles of the songs that have inspired the writing of the chapters themselves. This one is Sober by P!nk.

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Two months have passed since the first day of his new, and quite literal, torture, and it seemed like William still was nowhere close to what he wanted from Desmond. The young brunette had been injected with several different chemicals, all of which did absolutely nothing to his personal torturer's amazement; he had been sedated and then pulled apart and put back together; they even had placed what had appeared to be a sliver of a piece of wood at the back of his neck, which had to be immediately taken out at the following… he didn't even remember what happened after they did that. Desmond guessed that the sliver was that remnant of a staff they were experimenting on in Russia.

Russia. The very thought of it brought pains that they had not done to him to the surface. He was somehow linked to that large country, but he did not remember, or understand, how. William was constantly trying to "bring back memories of Russia" whenever he saw Desmond, which was daily. The elder Miles had an obsession with watching the torture Desmond endured.

He was shocked that by this point he was not broken by what happened after each torture session.

William was the one to escort him back to his room after each session, and did a different form of torture on his son. Pinning him against any surface, forcing him to take off his clothes, and… raping him until his vocal chords should have been broken from all the screaming. It was a daily occurrence, and he eventually just stopped fighting back after the first couple of days.

Desmond curled in on himself as he thought of this. He had just been left alone from his second torturer, and had somehow managed to crawl over to his bed. The pain in his lower back was excruciating, but Desmond just ignored it in favor of attempting to forget the events of today. The small whip-induced cuts stung from the sweat getting into them, and just served to remind Desmond of what happened.

The man in charge of the main part of his torture was getting increasingly violent as Desmond started to not respond in the way they had expected, or wanted, him to. William gave permission to whip him today, and then the injections came. His memory became hazy after that point, and the only thing he remembered after that was being pushed against the wall in his room.

A grimace crossed his features, and he shoved his head into the pillow. _'Forget about it, you idiot. Get some sleep before they come to get you again.'_ Desmond shifted, stifling a groan as he did, and promptly forced himself to relax and sleep.

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He was gently shaken, bringing him out of his light sleep with ease. "Huh?" he said quietly, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes. He was shaken once more, and Desmond blearily opened his eyes to meet unfamiliar chocolate brown eyes.

"Come on, you bloody wanker, we have to get moving," the man whose eyes Desmond was looking into said in a hushed whisper. He gently helped get Desmond up and out of bed before the young man even realized it himself. Desmond tried to struggle a little bit, only to get the hand around his waist tightening. "Hey now, cool it, Miles. I'm an Assassin, and I'm bloody getting you out, alright?" Desmond forced himself to take a deep breath, and glanced over at the redhead holding him up. "Think you can walk, mate?"

Desmond shook his head slightly, and tried to get his weakened legs underneath him. "I… it might be a bit difficult, but I think I can," he whispered, not looking up into those chocolate brown eyes behind the black-rimmed glasses. He noticed the man helping him stand was shaking his head at that response, and Desmond knew that he was going to have a small bit of support from him.

The two started walking out of Desmond's room, and the more they moved, the easier it was for Desmond to walk. Or, in this case, run. "You think we could run into guards?" the man helping him asked suddenly, now only running close to Desmond's side. Desmond nodded, his eyes scanning the hallways warily. If he was correct, the change of guards should be happening soon, and they wouldn't have to worry about them. If not, then they were going to be screwed.

"Hey you!"

Desmond cringed, recognizing the voice of one of the guards that escorted him to his torture chamber. The two were walking towards them, and the man helping Desmond get out came to a stop. "Oh, bloody hell," he whispered.

Desmond reacted without thought, continuing to run right at the guards. He punched one in the gut, grabbed his baton and knocked the fallen guard out, doing the same to his buddy. He stilled for a second, the baton clattering to the floor as he stared down at his hands. "What the…?" he whispered, golden eyes wide in shock.

"Come on, Miles," the Assassin said, starting to run past Desmond again. Desmond nodded, and turned to slowly follow the man to the elevator to the floor below. They got inside with no trouble, and once inside, the Assassin finally made a small introduction. "Sorry, forgot to tell you my name. I'm Shaun Hastings," he said, looking straight at Desmond, who was leaning against the wall of the elevator.

Desmond nodded silently, his eyes closed and just letting his frazzled mind rest for a second. He had not had time to let his mind completely rest in quite a long time. However, the small amount of peace was brought to an end when they came to the floor below. Desmond opened his eyes and pushed off the wall, standing somewhat stable on his own feet. The maze they were going to go through was a large one, and Desmond knew that Shaun would need to focus on looking for the guards.

They exited the elevator, and went to the end of the hall. Desmond swayed slightly, his body finally giving him the last drop of strength he had. Shaun noticed this, and brought Desmond's left arm around his shoulders; Desmond shook his head and tried to take it back. "Stubborn bloody wanker, aren't you? Listen, if you run out of strength, then I _have_ to help you get to our van. All right?" Desmond sighed, unbelieving that he was being chided by someone who was helping get out of here.

"All right, just get me out," Desmond whispered resignedly, and Shaun nodded at that. The two started moving towards the maze of Animus', and managed to get in the hallways the small cubicles formed without incident. Desmond was limping more often, and had to rely on Shaun more than he did before. Luckily, the Assassin didn't seem to mind him leaning heavily on his shoulder. They often had to stop to check for guards at the intersections of hallways.

Shaun led them all the way to where another elevator was located. The only problem with this one was that there was a large group of guards standing in front of it, with William at the center. "Damn," Shaun cursed under his breath. Desmond gritted his teeth when William started clapping.

"Well done getting Desmond this far, Hastings," William conceded as he stared directly at the pair. "However, I'm going to have to take him back." The guards all lifted their guns level with them, and Desmond somehow found the strength to step in front of Shaun, as if to protect the Assassin from the bullets. Most likely the caliber of bullet would not be very high, seeing how they wanted _him_ alive. Shaun, they did not care about. William paused at the action, but soon found himself chuckling at it. "Desmond, I would recommend getting out of the way. You getting hurt would stop our progress, now wouldn't it?"

He could feel Shaun's exasperated, and confused, glare in between his shoulder blades, but all Desmond could truly focus on was William. A red haze, different from his Eagle Vision, overcame his eyesight, and soon Desmond was first guard went down, then the next two. After that, the guards just seemed to blend together; all Desmond knew was that he was hurting them, he had somehow received a deep wound on his right bicep that was, surprisingly, not affecting his fighting, and that William was running.

He heard a single gunshot, and saw William drop. The red faded away, and when Desmond glanced over at Shaun, he appeared to be holding a small-caliber pistol. The Assassin had to of noticed his stare, because he walked over to Desmond and said, "Tranquilizer bullets. We don't have much time." Desmond nodded, and nearly fell over again.

He caught onto Shaun's arm, and luckily they stayed on their feet. "Sorry," Desmond groaned, closing his eyes as a deep fatigue crashed over him. He was hoisted back onto his feet, his arm being draped over Shaun's shoulders again, and they were once again moving towards the elevator. Shaun swiped a card, and tried to put in a code; he wound up swearing as the code didn't work.

"Luce said this would work. Bloody hell," Shaun muttered under his breath. Desmond, unbeknownst to the Brit holding him up, was squinting at the key pad. His Eagle Vision activated again, and he quickly started trying combinations of the numbers showing up in red. "Hey, what are you...?" Shaun started saying, but cut himself off when, on the third try, Desmond got the right passcode.

He was not asked how he could do it, nor was there any conversation past that point. Shaun helped Desmond onto the elevator, and whispered to him, "Run straight to the silver van, me and Lucy will deal with any guards." Desmond took a shaky breath, and nodded his acknowledgement of the process. He had to find some form of strength, and he felt a pull of… something go between Desmond and Shaun. The brunette shook his head, and once the door opened, he started sprinting towards the closest silver van, considering he saw Lucy jump out of the back and run past him to help the other Assassin out. Desmond shook his head again, as he started to feel himself lose consciousness.

He reached the back, and was helped in by a girl with shoulder-length black hair and headphones covering her ears. "Stay down," she whispered, bringing a shot gun up to her shoulder. Desmond crouched down, and soon after his head banged against the wall supporting him, and he was out like a light.

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Desmond slowly blinked his eyes open, and all he could see was a sea of stars. He sat up and looked around, somehow supported by an invisible force underneath him. _'Okay, I know I passed out after getting into that van in the Abstergo garage. Then… does that mean I'm dreaming?'_ Desmond blinked again as the stars seemed to spin around him. He closed his eyes to prevent himself from getting nauseous.

"It's odd here, isn't it?"

Desmond's eyes snapped open, and he turned to where the younger voice came from. The form was dressed similarly as he was, and Desmond knew that the form looked like he was when he was sixteen. He was shorter and slimmer, his chocolate brown hair grown out to jaw length, with the bangs grown over his right eye. Golden eyes looked right into his own eyes, and the weary look in them froze Desmond in place.

"After staying here for nine years, though, you get used to it," he continued as he slowly walked to where Desmond was sitting on his ass. "So, Miles, how has life been before Abstergo got you again?"

Desmond slowly stood up, his eyes locked on the younger form. "Nice, I guess. But these past two months have been the first time I was in Abstergo. Unless, you mean…" The younger form nodded.

"Moscow, Russia. Yes, I do mean that." Desmond slowly shook his head, backing away from the younger form. "You don't remember that because _I_ created _you_, Miles, to have a completely different past from me." The younger form was still walking towards Desmond, his golden gaze calmly leveled with Desmond's.

He felt himself run into a wall, and he knew he was stuck now. The younger form stopped in front of him and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to keep eye contact. "Calm down, Miles. Didn't you ever find yourself unconsciously shying away from certain people, or certain gestures, for no apparent reason at all? Believe me, those reactions were the only ones I could not control or lock away."

Desmond closed his eyes and started shaking his head again. The hands fell from his cheeks to his shoulders. "I mean, yeah, I always wondered about it whenever someone would bring it up, but… I've never been to Russia, much less Moscow." Desmond turned his head away from the person, so similar to him, in front of him, and frantically continued, "How are you so certain that it was-"

"Every time the door opened, biting cold flowed into the small windowless room." The scene started to play out behind Desmond's eyelids as the soft, young voice spoke. "The only way to distinguish between the seasons was the snow on the ground whenever training was outside. The guards only knew two languages: Russian and broken English. Some of the classes the Templars allowed were Russian courses." Desmond's eyes flashed open, and he could only wordlessly gape as the younger version of himself continued, "By the age of ten, I was fluent in four languages; I could take down their strongest fighter in three seconds without any cheap or dirty shots, one if I did use those. I never knew my parents; I grew up in the lab outside of Moscow." A smirk curved scarred lips at that. "At least, until I turned sixteen and escaped the torture. Torture that you experienced in a small amount."

Desmond flushed slightly and looked away at that remark; something he would just wish would leave his mind. "Listen, I still don't know if I can trust you…" The younger form shook his head and, leaning up on his toes, began to whisper into Desmond's ear nonsensical words. He felt his knees start to give out on him again, but surprisingly the younger form, who he now truly realized deserved the name Desmond due to the new and familiar memories flowing through his mind, managed to keep him pressed against the wall. The last thing he heard as his mind was dissolved into the depths of his consciousness was, "Sorry, Miles. I was hoping this would never happen to you…"

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Yeah, I completely threw you all for a loop, didn't I? And I threw out quite a bit of the actual story, so this is now completely AU… But hey, for your all's wait, you got a slightly longer chapter!

There will be long intervals in between posts, because I am currently in school, and the only times I have to work on this is my two periods of online classes. So, please bear with me through them, and NOT try to kill me through reviews.

Speaking of, for all those who have reviewed on this chapter, I thank you for your kind words and encouragements. And for one, I do apologize about the confusion (if it was on this account of mine or on the other); I was on my sister's account, and forgot to log her off before answering your review. Hehe?

See you all again soon, I hope!

~Krystal


	3. Chapter 3: Rolling In the Deep

Chapter 3: Rolling In the Deep

Fanfiction by Krystal Shepard

Alright. This chapter and the ones that follow will be in that other, younger Desmond's POV; the one you all met in the end of the last chapter. "Miles" is the Desmond from the actual game, per se. If you want a look at what I believe Desmond would have looked like when he was sixteen, I will post a picture of him on my deviantArt account. If I get enough requests for it on here, I will do so.

Anyways, there will be another character in here, she is my character and I would hope that people do not try and steal her from me. Her name is Hope Lyric Wing, and she is… like the younger Desmond in a way. That will be explained in the following few chapters.

Please read and review. The same drill as before, though:

THIS IS A YAOI BETWEEN SHAUN AND DESMOND. If you have a problem with that, then please DO NOT READ. I would rather not get any reviews stating that this should not be a yaoi or anything along those lines. If you do not mind this, then please read. I hope you enjoy this.

P.S., this chapter's inspiration came from Rolling In the Deep by Adele.

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He was on the barest edge of consciousness when he first felt the change. Miles was still there, in the back of his mind, as a security measure, but that was not the change in itself. No, the change came with the spark of power he had hid away when he was sixteen. His physical form was engulfed in it, shifting to meet his spiritual form of that age when he hid himself. Desmond – the real Desmond, who went through Moscow and forced himself to completely change after leaving – sighed as he opened his eyes, blankly staring up at the ceiling. The one thing that was keeping him from completely flipping out was the fact that Miles recognized one of the voices coming from the doorway.

"Why the bloody hell am I not allowed in? Out of everyone here, I'm the closest we have to a bloody doctor!" Desmond quirked a smirk at the pissed Brit's voice; that man had no clue what he was asking for.

"Shaun, just wait until Hope gets back, all right? He's farther gone that you can handle…" The female – _Lucy_, Miles provided subconsciously – was cut off by the Brit.

"Then let me keep him bloody stable if he's that far gone!"

Desmond calmly stated, "You'd wind up jumping me before you could keep me stable, Hastings." _'By the First, I actually have to remind myself which language I'm speaking,'_ Desmond thought as the two stopped conversing and stared at him through the open doorway. "Thank you, Lucy, for keeping him out, but do you know if you have that specific medicine that this Hope person most likely keeps in a separate cabinet?" The blond woman was silent for a few seconds, seemingly stunned at either his words or looks, he really did not care. However, she was soon motioning to Shaun to stay put, and walking towards him.

"Are you all right…?" she started asking, but cut off once she really saw Desmond's looks. She took one step back when Desmond sighed and sat up, the shirt he was wearing falling off his right shoulder as he did. He glanced over at her, and it looked like he was going to have to ask again when another girl appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, finally woke up after nine years, eh?" she said, leaning against the door jam. Desmond turned his eyes on her, and deeming her not a threat, nodded. "'Bout time, you little pain in the butt. Now then, the medicine you were asking for…" She walked into the room and straight to him, going through a bag slung over her shoulders. "Ah-ha, here it is!" she exclaimed, holding up a small vial.

Lucy was about to grab it, but Desmond leaned over and lightly took it from her fingers. "Thank you," he said calmly, popping the cork off and downing the liquid in the vial. The same bitter taste and the same tingle fell over him. He ran his tongue over his teeth and made a gagging motion. "Nine years, and you couldn't change the taste at all?" he managed to grind out at the girl; he assumed she was that Hope person. She gave a nod, smirking as she did.

"Sorry, but you know the drill," she said with a shrug before turning around. "Hey Shaun, you can come in here now!"

Desmond rolled his eyes and sighed. The Brit was going to be intolerable now.

Surprisingly, Shaun was accompanied by another girl – _'By the First, are the entire Assassin's Order female?'_ Desmond thought – this one the girl who was in the van when Miles was rescued. "Hey, he's awake!" the new girl said excitedly, and soon was on the other side of the bed Desmond was on. "Wait a minute…" she grumbled under her breath, staring at Desmond as he looked right back at her. "I don't remember you having hair."

Desmond could feel the eye roll that Shaun gave before he commented, "Gee, I wonder why that is, Rebecca? Because he didn't? I was wondering what that bloody light was." That last part was grumbled underneath Shaun's breath, but Desmond still heard it clearly. He shook his head and ignored what the prickly Brit had said.

"I take it then," Desmond said to Hope, "that you did not tell everyone else who exactly they were getting?" Hope shook her head.

"Not entirely; they knew that they were getting an Assassin that was supposedly named Desmond Miles, and to expect a lot of guards going in and out. However," she leaned against the side of Desmond's bed, "even I did not know if you would awaken from what that bastard was most likely putting Miles through." Shaun was glancing between the two, an eyebrow raised at them.

"What, so this… boy practically is the same Desmond that we got out?" he asked slowly, his chocolate brown eyes focused on the only person sitting in the entire room. Desmond sighed and raised a hand.

"Before we continue, can I get some clothes that actually fit? I don't care if it's one of the girl's clothes at the moment," he interrupted, feeling slightly uncomfortable being the center of attention. When he was that, something bad normally happened to him. Everyone raised their eyebrows at his question. "What? Fourteen years with oversized clothes, and you expect me to continue to want to wear that type of clothing? Besides, it's either that, or a belt for these pants."

Lucy and Rebecca shared a look, and suddenly Desmond was being dragged from the room by the brunette. "Come along, Dez; I'll hook you up," she said enthusiastically. "By the way, name's Rebecca Crane," she added. Desmond nodded silently, focused on not tripping over his own two feet.

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"I cannot believe that your butt is actually bigger than mine," Rebecca complained as Desmond stood in her and Lucy's room in only a pair of Lucy's jeans. He shrugged as the two were still rifling through Lucy's closet, seeing as how her clothes seemed to fit Desmond better at the moment. Shaun was leaning in the doorway, watching the scene. "Hey Luce, I found this in the back of the closet," Rebecca commented, holding up a white hoodie that seemed actually too small for Lucy. The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, don't remind me," she groaned as she also found another of her smaller shirts. "Here, Desmond, try this on. If it doesn't fit for now, we can look for something later," Lucy said as she handed the shirt and hoodie to Desmond. She then proceeded to drag Rebecca out of the room, claiming that "they needed to get back to work," leaving Shaun and Desmond alone. The brunette shook his head and just slid his arms through the armholes in the shirt.

Silence reigned between the two for a few seconds, and then Shaun made a comment. "You do realize that you're cross-dressing, right?" Desmond glanced at the older man, and gave a small shrug.

"Better than walking around naked; wouldn't want to scar your eyes, after all," he said off-handedly, shrugging the hoodie on and walking out of the room. He followed the sound of the three girl's voices to the end of the hallway

Desmond could distinctly hear Shaun say, "You don't know what I would prefer." Desmond felt his eyebrow quirk on instinct, and a small smirk graced his lips again. Oh, he was going to milk that for what it's worth.

Desmond entered the room where the three females were conversing, gently tugging at the small turtleneck that the shirt had. Rebecca was saying, "…might be the only way to see if it would work. Besides, I've been waiting to see if the Animus is actually capable of rejecting a person's DNA." Hope glanced over at him and just shook her head. Rebecca straightened her back slightly and whispered, "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Just walked in, Rebecca," Desmond said as he took a seat on what seemed to be the center of their conversation. "So, what exactly were you three talking about so excitedly?" Golden eyes glanced between the three, and he realized that, as usual, he was the only one with his odd shade of eye color. However, he was forced to push that to the side as Lucy answered him:

"We were actually discussing whether or not we should put you in the Animus there."

Desmond raised an eyebrow, and slowly responded, "It wouldn't work. I don't want to accidentally wind up blowing it up if you place me in this." Everyone, including Shaun who had just walked in, did a double take at his words. Desmond shrugged. "Its First technology, and the last time I was involved with any form of First tech, anything flammable around me blew up. I just do not want to risk it."

Rebecca seemed too shocked to answer, so Lucy, after taking a few seconds herself, said, "Maybe we could try just once? Depending on the… First tech, as you put it, you could have different reactions." Desmond rolled his eyes, but still relented to their request. It was one of his instincts from Moscow; the easiest way out of pain was to just accept what you were told to do. He laid back on the chair, memories of when Miles went into a similar machine coming to mind. _'At least theirs is much more comfortable than Abstergo's,'_ he ruefully thought as he was hooked up to the machine through a small needle in his right arm. Desmond closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

He felt the Animus draw him into the loading screen, but he could still clearly hear what was being said around his body. "Wait a minute; the Animus is loading all the memories we were going to go through? What the…" Rebecca said with confusion in her voice.

Shaun made a noise of confusion also from his station. "I'm getting information on Renaissance Italy, and… The bloody hell? What are these… video snippets?" Footsteps that he connected to Lucy ran over to the corner with Shaun, and he heard her gasp.

"Shaun, Becca, I think the Animus is doing more than rejecting him… Desmond's…"

"Using the Animus subconsciously to tell us what exactly is hidden in his DNA when it comes to Ezio Auditore da Firenze," Hope said calmly from her seat next to him. Desmond sat down in the loading screen, waiting for the Animus to kick him out for now. He saw in the distance what looked like Altaïr, and he gave a small nod to the ancestor. The white hooded head returned the nod before turning and going deeper into the Animus loading screen.

Desmond quirked his head and rose, feeling like he should be following his ancestor to where he was going. Before he knew it, Desmond was running after the man, keeping the distance that was between them easily through the endless loading screen. He knew that the four outside could see what he was doing, so he just ignored their words and continued after the oh-so familiar white figure.

All too soon, Desmond caught up with the man, and turned his head to face him. Altaïr only jerked his chin in front of them, and Desmond glanced in that direction.

The loading screen before them slowly became what looked like a similar vault to the one that the Templar's forced Desmond to open when he was only three. Another of his ancestor's, Ezio, was just entering the vault proper, clutching his side as if he was injured. He slowly moved to the casket, and that was where Desmond knew that his family was finally meeting Minerva.

Desmond whispered to Altaïr, "_**You did not have to show me this**_," in the Syrian Assassin's native tongue. Altaïr quirked a smirk, and turned golden eyes onto Desmond.

"_**I know, fledgling.**_"

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Desmond slowly opened his eyes after being booted out of the Animus by the computer-generated Altaïr. He sat up, and waited for Rebecca to remove the irritating needle from his arm. Luckily, she did, and then the questions started coming.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" And they started with Shaun.

Desmond shook his head, bangs falling in front of his right eye again. "Ezio met the First named Minerva in that Vault, where she left a message for me to get from his memories. Just by seeing the start of it, you all can go through that memory without me needing to be in the Animus to see it." His golden eyes glanced around, pleased to see that there was no fire around them. "Anything else you all want clarified?"

Rebecca then stated, "I'm going to have to run some tests." She then proceeded to pull Desmond along behind her, for the second time that day.

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Any comment's so far? Confusion? Please review! I won't get back to you all, and I do have school, so please bear with me and my crazy update schedule.


	4. Chapter 4: Hero

Chapter 4: Hero

Fanfiction by Krystal Shepard

Hello again, and thank you to all who has read this thus far! I'm glad that, even though it is quite confusing in some spots, you all like it… I hope.

So, later on there will be a chunk written in italics. Those italics are Desmond's words, almost like quotations around them. Considering the length of that part, however, I just decided to do that. So, there you have it.

Please read and review. And as always:

THIS IS A YAOI BETWEEN SHAUN AND DESMOND. If you have a problem with that, then please DO NOT READ. I would rather not get any reviews stating that this should not be a yaoi or anything along those lines. If you do not mind this, then please read. I hope you enjoy this.

P.S., this chapter is named after Hero by Skillet.

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"These won't hurt, will they?" Desmond asked warily. Rebecca rolled her eyes at his question.

"For the last time, no they won't. Just calm down and let me run the damn tests," she snapped, her annoyance clearly heard in her voice. Desmond pouted slightly, but allowed Rebecca to stick another needle into him for her blood tests. The needle slid into his vein, and Desmond forced himself to remain still and to NOT yank it out. Taking several more deep breaths, he focused on relaxing all of his muscles and keeping his mind clear; he was not in danger, so his training could stay _right where it is._

The needle stayed in his arm for several minutes, and Rebecca took what had to of been six or seven vials of blood. Finally, it was removed, and a gauze pad replaced it in the crook of his elbow. Desmond opened his eyes to look into Rebecca's, and he somehow knew that he wasn't done with these tests. "What's next?" he asked dejectedly.

"Next are Lucy's tests for you, but only after you rest for the night. She focuses on the physical side, while I and Shaun do the medical stuff," Rebecca explained to the best of her ability. Desmond nodded slowly, and moved to get off the medical table he was on. "Now wait a second, you don't want to stick around and find out what all these vials are for?"

Desmond snorted. "I already know what you're going to find. I'd just recommend doing some research on human-born First Civilization while waiting for the results." He ignored the odd look he received from Rebecca in favor of turning to leave the room. Before leaving the little infirmary area, Desmond snagged another one of those vials of medicine he needed to keep Shaun from jumping him.

Yes, specifically Shaun. The Brit, being the only other male here, would be the only one who will be affected by what he is hiding. Literally.

Quickly, he downed the bitter liquid, and shook his head at the gag-making taste. He trudged down the halls to where the others were talking; hoping that one of them would point him in the direction of a room he could go to sleep in, hoping that the medicine would take effect before entering the room. The scent he was giving off was so strong, he could smell it himself, something that does not normally happen. Desmond stopped, waiting in the hallway for the scent to go down. His luck had to of run out at that point, because right before it went away Shaun entered the hall from the room the others were in. Desmond froze, his nose twitching as he watched the Brit hurry down the hall towards him, chocolate brown eyes locked on his golden ones.

Shaun paused right in front of him, and asked, "Something wrong?" Desmond shook his head, his eyes wide as he waited for the man in front of him to make a move. Instead of what he expected, though (being pushed against the wall behind him and fucked into oblivion), Shaun only frowned and shook his head. "Then quit bloody acting like I'm going to hurt you or something." He then walked on, and from the distance he walked Desmond guessed that he was going to join Rebecca.

Desmond released the breath he had not realized he was holding, before shaking his head and continuing on to the room with the other two in it. _'Just wait for another time, Dez,'_ he whispered in his mind before entering the madhouse.

Lucy was yelling at the younger girl, Hope, and Desmond could only lean against the doorway and watch the scene. "You completely ignored what Rebecca and I were saying, and ordered Shaun to go in ahead of schedule. We had a plan, Hope, one that would not have required our near-death experience back there!"

Hope just calmly replied, in that light and carefree voice of hers, "Yes, but do you think that William would have waited for us to be ready? He was about to transfer the operation to their Moscow lab, where Desmond was sure to be completely out of our reach. You know that we have no control in Russia, and if we entered we would be without any form of possible back-up." Desmond raised an eyebrow at that; he had figured that was what William was so preoccupied with (Miles' memory of the second to last experience he had with the man), but how did…

"You don't know that for certain! We could have died and lost him!"

"But we didn't, and that is all that matters."

"Oh, you really think so, _Assassin?_"

A pause occurred in their conversation, and Desmond could see the tenseness in Hope's shoulders. Somehow, he knew that her jade colored eyes were closed tightly, and that she was taking deep breaths through gritted teeth.

"Yes, actually, I do. And please do not bring ranking into the conversation when we are of the same rank. That is one hundred percent uncalled for, and you are lucky that I am not hurting you at the moment. I can, if I so wanted."

Hope then turned and stormed out of the room, nearly running Desmond over. He only turned in time for her to go through the doorway, and watched her bright red head of hair go down the hallway to a room at the far left side of the hallway. Desmond glanced back into the room, and watched as Lucy rubbed her head as if she had a headache. "She seems about as stubborn as I am," he carefully said, not wanting to bring her rage on him. Lucy glanced up at him, her shock written clearly on her face.

"You heard all that?"

He shrugged. "Some of it. And she was right; if they had gotten Miles into Russia, I wouldn't have had a chance of getting out twice." Desmond garnered a confused look, merging with Lucy's shock, from the blond Assassin, and only shook his head.

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Desmond was sitting back in the examination room, surrounded by Shaun, Lucy and Rebecca. The blonde had brought him into the room, with a demand for an explanation of what happened in Moscow. The brunette glanced around at the three, and knew that he was cornered with no way out but to tell them.

He sighed before starting his story. "I just ask one thing before telling you all: no questions until I'm done. It's a long story…"

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_I grew up in the Templar laboratory just outside of Moscow since I was two. My parents, supposedly, were killed by the Templars after being ratted out by a fellow Assassin, along with my elder brother. They just wanted me. I didn't understand why, though, until later._

_From the first little "check-up" the Templar's had done, I was considered William Miles' personal project. He was always close by, no matter what was happening: training, classes, experimentations, torture sessions… You name it, he was there._

_When I was three, they had me open one of the Vaults in Russia. The only thing I remember from it was the cold, and then the pain as I placed my hand on the controls to the door. After that, I was back in my room. Apparently, from reports that I had overheard, the Piece of Eden that was there was nonoperational, making that trip a bust. William had considered that it was because I wasn't there that the Piece was not operational, but when he tried to get me anywhere close to it there was always a physical tax on me. Eventually, he stopped trying._

_I was given classes by the Templars, shock of all shocks. Mainly in different languages, but they also taught me the basics of math, science, and some medical training. I am fluent in Russian, Italian, Arabic, Japanese, and English because of those classes. Other than that, it was stuff I don't remember how to do off the top of my head, but can easily do in situations where it is needed._

_The training I went under was official Assassin training. They had somehow captured an Assassin to specifically train me. I knew that she had to of absolutely hated me, considering I was the reason for her imprisonment; she just never showed it to anyone. However, when she was training me, I could get a semblance that she was watching over me, and not just because I might hurt myself. She somehow knew that I had the capacity to hurt others… _

_Shaun what did I say about no questions?_

_Anyways, enough about that. The point was, because of her, highly intensive and effective, training, when I was ten I was considered a major threat to everyone in the lab. I could take down their biggest, strongest guard in three seconds flat, no dirty shots. It only took one with a dirty shot, and a millisecond to kill him when I found him alone._

_Because of that little show of rebellion, William added another form of torture to my growing list of sessions: rape._

_It was a common occurrence after that when I was dragged off randomly to some guards' room and… yeah. They had strict orders, however, to always use a condom when doing the deed. Even William had those orders, when he had his way with me. Must have been directly from the Grand Master Templar or something, for that all to happen._

_I somehow, between the rapes and experimentation, compiled a plan to get out of the lab. The Assassin who trained me helped out as well, using the excuse that she did not like watching a child be treated the way I was being treated. When I turned sixteen, we set the plan in motion._

_I was being transported to the experimentation room, and we passed her by. I gave the nod, and started attacking the guards. There were only four, so the fight was over before they even realized it. The Assassin made a distraction as I slipped through the air ducts and out of the lab. I waited for three minutes outside of the exit for the air ducts, and when she joined me, she told me to run, that I was on my own from there._

_The original plan was to leave together, then part ways when we got to the airport. Instead, she shoved a passport and an American social security card into my hands and told me that there was nothing left for her to return to. She had her orders to be captured, and to get me out using any means necessary, even costing her own life. She pulled a knife on me, telling me that if I didn't go, I wouldn't live for much longer. So, I did what I was trained to do:_

_I turned the knife on her, and ran. _

_After getting one hundred yards away from the lab, it exploded, sending debris everywhere. The only piece that hit me pierced through my skin at the top of my back, creating the jagged scar running parallel to my spine._

_I managed to patch the wound as much as I could, what with my limited medical skills, and made my way through the snow to the city. There, I stole and begged money off of people, gathering enough to buy a plane ticket all the way from Moscow to the United States, Los Angelis, if my memory is correct. From there, I was creating a second personality to replace me while making my way to the Farm. That's where Miles comes in._

_The passport and social I had gotten from the Assassin had the name "Desmond Miles" on it, so I jump started from there, creating William Miles' son for him._

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"After that, I forced amnesia in a plain close to the Farm, and disappeared since then," Desmond concluded, opening eyes that he had closed sometime in the middle of his tirade. Rebecca and Lucy were gaping at him like fishes out of water. Shaun on the other hand…

"So that's why you act so bloody scared of me," Shaun said, the question obviously rhetorical. Desmond still felt the need to nod at the Brit's comment. "Yet, Miles, as you called him, did not seem like that."

"Of course not. He did not have the same past as me, and I had wanted it to stay that way." The looks at that comment forced Desmond to explain further, "When I said I had disappeared from that point in time, I meant it. I had wanted to permanently disappear, to not come back. Miles seemed like such the good idea at the time, and he was the only way I could have done this all these years." Lucy seemed to get what he was saying.

"You seriously wanted to never come back." Desmond nodded, rubbing one of his eyes to get the tiredness out of it. Lucy sighed, and added, "I guess our questions will have to wait a little while longer. Come on, Dez; I'll show you to your room."

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Finished! Please be nice in any and all reviews, I really worked hard on this and am risking my grades in my computer-based classes for you guys.


	5. Interlude 1: Live Free or Let Me Die

Interlude 1: Live Free or Let Me Die

Fanfiction by Krystal Shepard

Just a little chapter to fill in where Desmond is asleep. This will be in Shaun's POV, as you can tell by the very first line. Let us see where this relationship between Shaun and Desmond kicks off, shall we?

Oh, and you all will find out Desmond's last name in this! hehehe…

Standard procedure for not getting hate reviews:

THIS IS A YAOI BETWEEN SHAUN AND DESMOND. If you have a problem with that, then please DO NOT READ. I would rather not get any reviews stating that this should not be a yaoi or anything along those lines. If you do not mind this, then please read. I hope you enjoy this.

Read and review, please! This interlude is inspired by Skillet's Live Free or Let Me Die.

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'_Why is he so bloody stubborn?'_

Shaun was leaning against the door jamb to the American's room, just staring at the unconscious… boy? Man? By this point, Shaun didn't really know what to call the person curled up in the middle of a bed that seemed far too large for his slender frame.

'_Then again, that stubbornness had to of been what kept him alive through those fourteen years,'_ Shaun continued thinking to himself, tilting his head slightly. _'How anyone could manage to continue fighting for that long is beyond me. I guess… that is just how he is.'_ Without even fully realizing it, Shaun slowly approached the bed, his chocolate brown eyes focused on the gentle, sleeping face of the American. He eventually sat down on the side of the bed.

After hearing the American's story, Shaun did what got him to the Assassin's in the first place: He hacked Abstergo for information on those fourteen years. Not because he did not believe him, but because he knew that there was something that the American was not telling them.

And there was: Desmond had two elder brothers, twins. One was out of the house at their grandparents at the time of the attack. Shaun brushed some of the American's bangs out of his face, staring curiously down at him. The brother that survived was, despite being an Assassin, not in the Assassin main database. It was almost like he had dropped off the face of the Earth. However, Shaun had an idea about who exactly it could be, considering the young face seemed so alike the person in charge of the guards for the hideout.

Shaun's curious eyes started betraying him, as they traveled to the American's lips, quickly followed by his throat, collarbone, and would have gone further if Shaun had allowed them to. _'Bloody hell, Hastings, what is the matter with you? You came to check up on him, nothing more.'_ Shaun shook his head, and was about to get up when a feminine voice with an Irish brogue said, "It seems that you like him, Hastings." Shaun turned his head to the door, looking straight into the jade-colored eyes of Hope Lyric Wings. "Don't even try to deny it. I can always tell when someone's a little too curious to be more than plain curiosity."

Shaun shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said in response. Hope raised an eyebrow and walked into the room.

"Oh please. You know exactly what it is I am talking about, Hastings. Hacking into a file that I had flagged on my personal computers and downloading it onto your own to read. If you had wanted to know about the boy so badly," she reached the nightstand and leaned against it, "you could have just asked." Shaun scowled, and returned his eyes to the American.

He waited in silence for her to say more, but as the awkward silence stretched between them, Shaun finally gave in. "I just wanted to check the facts. Truthfully, I did not believe that I'd find anything even close to his story." From his peripherals, Shaun saw Hope nod at his comment. "It just seemed… outlandish. I mean, capturing a two-year-old after killing his parents and one of his brothers, all just to use him for their own good…"

"Yeah. I would have been if the Dublin squad's weren't so protective of me."

Shaun glanced back at Hope, who shrugged and jerked her head to the door. She then started walking out of the room without another word. Shaun waited for a second, to make sure that she was out of the room, before pressing a small kiss to the American's forehead. He then stood and joined Hope in the hallway. "What is it?" he asked.

Hope gave him a small, secretive smile. "I think it's time you met my squad," she said quietly. Shaun raised an eyebrow at the small sentence, but Hope was already going on down the hallway with her back turned to him. The short, wavy red hair of hers bounced as she walked, and Shaun almost knew that her jade eyes had that same sharp, secretive gleam in them. Either way, he still warily followed her, curiosity spiking sharply. Hope turned inside of a room that Shaun knew held the surveillance equipment, and from the two happy but hushed voices that came from the room, he guessed that the squad she had mentioned was in there. He slowly entered the room, glancing around at the completely different people inside of it:

Hope was obvious to recognize, her bright red hair and odd choice of a light green tee-shirt at complement. She currently had her arms wrapped around a slightly shorter girl's shoulders, and from how frail they looked, Shaun could only guess that she was not trained in fighting. The other girl had long, platinum blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that sparkled in the dark lighting of the surveillance monitors. There was only one male in the room besides himself, and Shaun knew right off the bat that this was the person in charge of the guards. The short chocolate brown hair was cut close to the scalp, and looked like it was recently ruffled from someone much shorter than himself. His limbs were fairly muscled, and familiar golden amber eyes were soon leveled at him.

"Hope, I take it this is the historian you wanted us to meet?" the male said, tenor voice carrying across the room despite being hushed. Hope glanced back at Shaun and smiled.

"You got it, Aaron," she replied, unwinding herself from the other girl. Hope then proceeded to drag Shaun in farther and close the door. "Meet Shaun Hastings, everyone. Shaun, these two are the other parts of the squad: Aaron Bellator and Adrianna Courts. Aaron would be our powerhouse," the male gave a smirk at that and rolled his eyes, "while Adri here is the researcher. She also helps with the medical and hacking departments." The girl smiled slightly, an embarrassed flush on her face. Shaun blinked, the name Courts going through her head.

"Courts, as in the Courts family? Andi Courts?" he asked, not sure now whether or not she was trustable.

Adrianna glanced away for a second before nodding her head. A small, meek voice said, "Yeah. I… kind of ran away from that family a couple of years ago. Just wanted a different life for myself. Andi was my elder brother…" She clutched at her right bicep, and Shaun knew: Adrianna was still in training to be an Assassin, but was allowed to get the mark anyways. His own right bicep started itching, but he ignored it.

He forced out an, "I, ah… I see," from his tight throat. Aaron chuckled at that.

"You get used to Adri and her habits. Johnson Courts was never a good father from what I've heard, and Andi only learned from him. I've wanted to kick their asses for years. Now," Aaron gave Shaun a sadistic-looking smile, "I just have a better reason to do that." Shaun shook his head and returned his attention to Hope.

"Is there another reason as to why you've brought me to this lot of wankers? No offense to you, Adrianna," Shaun asked, an eyebrow skeptically raised. Hope tilted her head and walked over to Aaron.

"We have… a bit of a dilemma, you could say. And how we deal with it depends on how well Desmond is trained," Hope said carefully, leaning against the chair Aaron was sitting in. "It also depends on how much we can trust you and your team, and that all is based on the information we give each other." Shaun nodded, and found a seat he could take up.

"What does that have to do with me, then?" he asked.

"You're the one we can trust the most at the moment." Shaun cocked an eyebrow at that, and Hope just shrugged. "Lucy already dislikes me enough, considering she does not believe that I should make the promotion to Master Assassin. Rebecca, while she can be swayed, seems to trust Lucy more than us. You, on the other hand, you've already read Desmond's entire file. You've done the research, although Rebecca is bound to do the same research on what we're going to be telling you." Aaron took over the conversation from that point.

"The point that Hope's trying to get at is that Desmond trusts you. And if my little brother trusts you, then so can we." Shaun's eyebrow's raised at that; just what he thought. "This information, however, cannot be shared outside of this room. It is highly sensitive information," Aaron stood and walked over to where Shaun was sitting, a manila folder in his hands, "and we only want to disclose it only when absolutely necessary." Shaun took the manila folder from Aaron's outstretched hand and, with a wary glance at the taller man, opened it to the first page. Chocolate brown eyes trailed across the pages, taking in what was given to him.

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_First Civilization Report_

_Subject: The First Civilization_

_Report done by Hope Lyric Wings_

_ Extra information from Adrianna Courts_

_ The First Civilization was a highly advanced civilization that was the creators of humans and the Pieces of Eden. They were mostly wiped out after an unknown apocalypse, presumably a solar flare that reached the Earth, burned and destroyed much of the planet's surface. The only sign of their existence was the Vaults they built after the apocalypse, and all the legends of gods and goddesses throughout human history._

_ The First Civilization created humans in their own image, much like the God in Christian and Jewish religions. However, the reason why is less than benevolent: To the First Civilization, the humans were made for slave labor. Thus the effect the Pieces of Eden have on some people. The humans were created to have a neurotransmitter that reacts to the Piece of Eden, allowing whoever wields it to control them. This plan, however, was flawed when the First Civilization started reproducing with the humans, birthing humans without that specific neurotransmitter. Due to this, Adam and Eve, for a very important example, were able to lead a revolt against the First Civilization after stealing an Apple of Eden._

_ The First Civilization-Human War was short lived. The apocalypse destroyed much of the Earth, and is said to of been only part of a cycle. The First Civilization and the humans were forced to join forces to rebuild. Adam and Eve were the humans who led the rebuilding effort, but decided against returning to the advanced technology and architecture the First Civilization used._

_ As will be described in the next section of the report, there is some First Civilization still living amongst us._

_ The difference between the First Civilization and the humans is simple: First Civilization is a dying race, and some can only be found in the Vaults as holographic-like spirits. Since there are no bodies of the First Civilization to be found, it is difficult to have physical proof of their existence. The only proof we have is the Vaults, and the legends of the gods and goddesses, which "early humans" would have created to explain the First Civilization members living around them._

_ End Report._

_First Civilization Report_

_Subject: Human-Born First Civilization_

_Report done by Adrianna Courts_

_ Extra information from Hope Lyric Wings and Aaron Bellator_

_ Human-born First Civilization is a term dealing with the children of human parents who have such a high concentration of First Civilization DNA in their bloodstreams that they are classified as part of the First Civilization. Common indicators are natural-toned eyes (often similar to precious stones and metals), distinguishable abilities not found in ordinary humans, the ability to pick up on any language they hear and speak/read/write in said language, and their often youthful appearances. Another trait of the human-born First is that they can force amnesia on themselves, and create another personality to take over, effectively erasing the human-born First from existence. Couple this with the fact that the human-born First also gives off a specific pheromone that reacts with the male physiology, causing the two to go into something resembling a animal-like heat, and you have a danger waiting to happen for the unsuspecting human-born First._

_ Because of the rarity of the human-born First, the competition to have one on the two sides, Assassin and Templar, is very high. There have been reports that several human-born Firsts have actually been killed by their parents to keep them out of the war; other reports suggest that the parents keep the child hidden from both organizations until they reach the age of sixteen. After that, they are sent to hidden compounds, depending on what organization they come into contact with at that time._

_ As a technical part of the First Civilization, human-born Firsts are capable of opening any of the Vaults containing Pieces of Eden._

_ To our knowledge, only one held by the Templar's have made it out of the laboratory he was held in. The laboratory was destroyed by an inside Assassin, who was supposedly killed in the blast. The human-born First survived, but was never recovered by our team. Suspected to have forced amnesia to better blend with the new environment and surroundings._

_ Physically, a human-born First appears to be the same as a regular human. However, there are two major differences between the two: Human-born First Civilization members have what can be described as a Nano machine generator attached to their hearts from birth. They are suspected to be born with them, despite the improbability of them actually being a part of them naturally. Having never gotten my hands on a deceased human-born First, I cannot give a proper medical reason for it to be there. Also, as previously mentioned, there is the pheromone that the human-born First gives off, which may even play into a part of their own physiology that we have not been able to find out about previously due to inconclusive testing._

_ To my knowledge, the Assassins have two human-born Firsts on their side and working for them. Which two, however, are inconclusive. The only way to distinguish between a human-born First and an ordinary human is to x-ray the chest cavity and look for the Nano machine generator._

_ End Report._

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Shaun glanced up at Hope and Aaron, then at Adrianna. "These were done by you three?" he asked silently, his voice a croak due to how dry it was. Adrianna nodded, that flush on her face again. "How am I sure that you all are not just trying to fool me?"

Aaron shook his head. "Because the two human-born Firsts mentioned in Adrianna's report are in the room, with another being Desmond. We would not lie about such a serious topic." Shaun took a deep breath, and passed the manila folder back to Aaron.

"I think I'm going to turn in now. You know, think all this through and such." Aaron gave a small smile, and Hope grinned.

"Yeah, and such."

thisisaline

What do you all think thus far, eh? Please review!


	6. Chapter 5: Hands In the Air

Chapter 5: Hands in the Air

Fanfiction by Krystal Shepard

Okay, here is all of the ways I'm going to point out the different languages Desmond knows:

_**Arabic**_, as used in Ch. 3

_Italian_

_Russian_, as will be used in this chapter

**Japanese**

What, his trainer was Japanese, like she wouldn't be teaching him Japanese. She liked him more than she showed the poor boy.

Anyways, the usual. Read and review, because I cannot check up on this during the school day (damn school internet blocking fanfiction... grumblegrumblegumble...)

Just in case you missed it before:

THIS IS A YAOI BETWEEN SHAUN AND DESMOND. If you have a problem with that, then please DO NOT READ. I would rather not get any reviews stating that this should not be a yaoi or anything along those lines. If you do not mind this, then please read. I hope you enjoy this.

P.S., this chapter is inspired by Hands in the Air by Timbaland.

thisisaline

"_What the fuck?"_ Desmond whispered when he woke up, accidentally slipping into Russian due to his semi-consciousness. The form that was not in his bed when he went to sleep shifted slightly, and Desmond just instinctively shot his elbow into the form's side.

"Bloody hell, Desmond!" was yelled into his ear loudly. The younger's eyes snapped open, and he sat upright to stare at Shaun Hastings, who was curling tightly into a ball around his injured ribcage. He flushed at the sight of the sleep-mussed hair and askew glasses perched on the historian's nose.

_"What are you doing in here? Damn it, Hastings, you should know by now what my reaction was going to be!"_ Desmond said, leveling a glare to match the one he knew that Shaun would be giving him. Just as he expected, Shaun opened one of his eyes and glared.

"Bloody English, if you will," he ground out. Desmond could only flush harder; he had accidentally stayed in Russian.

It took a couple seconds, but Desmond eventually said, "Sorry. Russian as a primary language sucks in the morning." That got a snort out of the prickly Brit.

"Yes, so I have learned." Shaun sat up and winced. "Sure do have good aim with those elbows," he grumbled under his breath. Desmond gave a small, sheepish smile, knowing that he was going to be in deep trouble. Lucy's voice interrupted their small, and quite interesting, conversation.

"Hey, once you guys are done in there, I kind of need to test Desmond's abilities as an Assassin," she called out from over the glass fence separating the sleeping area from the main part of the loft. Desmond rolled his eyes, and slowly got out of bed. He easily found one of the vial's he had been given and downed the medicine inside of it without complaint. He knew that he was getting a weird look from Shaun, and decided to ignore him for the time being; Shaun's eyes were doing some odd thing to his stomach anyways.

Desmond leant down to grab the white hoodie, forgoing the shirt in favor of just getting away from Shaun for a little while. "Next time," he started saying as he turned to look at Shaun over his shoulder, "don't sneak into the same bed as me when I am asleep. Otherwise, be ready to have a permanent bruise on that ribcage." He turned away from the Brit after that, and walked through the door in the glass fence. Lucy was waiting for him, and all Desmond asked was, "We going now?" The blonde nodded, a flush encompassing her face at Desmond's blatant uncaring attitude towards others.

"Yeah, I set up the area on the main floor of the warehouse. I'll meet you there," she explained. Desmond nodded curtly and strode past her with barely a second glance.

This environment was confusing to the young man as he walked through the warehouse, past Rebecca and Hope as they discussed something about their machines. He could almost follow the conversation, what little he heard, but decided that the topic was just out of his league. Desmond was a combatant with training in five different languages and in medical treatments. He knew nothing about machines and their various functions. The Templars never wanted him to learn their functions.

Maybe that might change.

Desmond reached the main level of the warehouse and looked around. He could see through a fence-like wall a clear free-running route, and the mats on the floor on the side he was currently on told him that sparring would take place on this side. Desmond rolled his neck and casually walked over to the free-running side. His eyes followed the path with ease, a scowl forming at the simplicity of it. "I know what my warm up is going to be," he grumbled before setting off on the course.

-thisisaline-

"Lucy, what took you so long?" Desmond called out after he completed the free-running course the third time. The blond haired woman was standing at the bottom of the staircase, staring at Desmond as he climbed down from the end of the route.

"How many times did you run that?" she asked, shock and annoyance in her voice. Desmond paused, cocking his head and taking into account her tone of voice.

Deciding his course of action, Desmond blatantly lied through his teeth. "That was the first time," he said, no inflection of emotion in his voice. Lucy glared at him, but he did not rise to the bait. "Would you like me to run it again so you can watch and do those 'tests' of yours?" His sarcasm was carefully kept out of his voice; he did not need another enemy.

Lucy shook her head. "If you would, Desmond. However, please refrain from lying to me again." Desmond's shoulders slumped as she wickedly smiled. "I was standing up there the whole time. You are good, that is for certain." Desmond nodded, a small quirk at the corner of his lips being the only sign of emotion he showed at her compliment. He started running again as she asked, "So, why didn't you wait for me to get down here?"

"The course was too simplistic. This is a warm up course if anything."

The silence that stretched between them was uncomfortable and tense as Desmond ran up the crates and jumped onto the cat walk for the fourth time. The course by now was ingrained into his muscles, so he very quickly made it to the end of the short course around the warehouse. Right as he reached the end, Lucy asked, "Well, unfortunately, this is the best we have. Considering you ran the course four times in five minutes, I would say that you pass the free-running test." Desmond stayed up on the top catwalk and looked over the railing at her. "Preform a Leap of Faith into that pile of shredded paper for me." Desmond shrugged, got up on top of the railing, and jumped.

He felt the euphoric high of jumping from a tall height, just like the first time he performed a Leap of Faith. Desmond could feel Miles shivering in his mind right as he landed in the designated pile of paper. "Ow," he said as he felt the concrete slam into his back. Desmond sat up and rubbed at the back of his head in an attempt to stop the pain radiating from it. "Those normally do not hurt this much," he groaned, rolling his head back on his shoulders. Desmond heard Lucy's chuckle, and opened a golden eye to see her holding a hand out to him.

"Sorry, should have warned you about that," she said through the chuckles. Desmond took her proffered hand and let her haul him back onto his feet. "Now then, think you can spar with me?" The twinkle in her blue eyes told Desmond that Lucy was as excited about the thought as he was. A slow grin broke out on his face, and Desmond nodded confidently.

-thisisaline-

Desmond threw Lucy onto the mats again, swinging away and ready again for another attack. His golden ambers watched her carefully as she slowly stood back up. "How did you managed to get this well trained, again?" she asked. Desmond almost did not register the English being spoken, and fell back into his normal training mindset – which meant Japanese.

"**What's wrong? Can't keep up?"** he asked, tilting his head teasingly at her. Lucy gave him a confused look, but she still fell into her fighting stance. Desmond gave her a shark-like smile, and they were at it again; both of them were blocking the other's attacks, Desmond being the one mostly on the offensive with Lucy getting in some good shots. **"Come on, I was better when I was eight,"** Desmond grumbled just loud enough for Lucy to hear.

"Desmond, I can't understand a word you're saying," she whispered when they locked together for a second. He felt something in his chest clench as he felt the air around him shift. She was going to launch another attack.

He heard something pop, and then he was looking at Lucy from a short distance away as she fell forward from losing her balance.

Desmond then heard another pop, and he managed to soften her fall by placing himself between her and the mats. They fell into a rather clumsy heap, a massive headache pounding in his ears from the two loud pops he heard. His eyes were skewered shut, and he was taking short breaths through clenched teeth. **"Kuso,"** he gritted out, and not from the weight Lucy was putting on him.

"Good merciful God, Desmond!" Uh-oh. Lucy was ticked.

He cracked one of his eyes open and gave Lucy a wiry smile. "Sorry, training mode is default Japanese."

"That was not what I was talking about! How did you… It shouldn't be possible…" Desmond tilted his head at her tone of voice. Too worried, only a slight amount of anger. It was not about his ever changing language he speaks in. "Mind telling me what the hell that was?"

His golden amber eyes fluttered open, and Desmond sat up, forcing Lucy to get off of his lap. "That was what I had to force away when I turned sixteen. Damn difficult to, also. I was truthfully waiting for it to awaken." He shrugged, adding, "I guess it was connected to the Eagle Vision awakening in Miles." Desmond stood up, slightly wobbly on his feet, and asked, "Those all the tests?" He saw Lucy nod from the corner of his eye. "Good. I'm going to get something to eat then, and rest for a little bit."

He walked away from the scene where his Human-Born First Civilization abilities sparked with as much confidence as when he first strode down to the bottom floor of the warehouse for the tests. This time, though, he knew that he was leaving behind too many questions to answer. He dug himself a nice little hole now, and he didn't think there was a way out of this one like last time.

-thisisaline-

The ability Desmond showed in the sparring, which I apologize for the vagueness of that, was a short distance teleportation. I would go into more detail about it, but it will be explained in a couple chapters. Sorry to leave it off like this; this chapter was harder to write than the last one.

R&R!


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